


First Threesome

by Caius



Series: Post-Election Request Drabbles [2]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Oral Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Voyeurism / Exhibitionism, Walking In On Someone, a little petplay, fluids all over, possibly unhealthy relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caius
Summary: Optimus walks in on Sentinel with his head between Elita's legs. Pure, indulgent PWP with the young trio. Written for Zekkass on tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zekkass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/gifts).



> (Posted separately and before the rest of the request drabbles because Bunsuu couldn't see it on tumblr.)

“Ah! Bad time, I see, I’m leaving now —” Optimus’ face flushed his red as his chest and all the energon in his body went straight to his interfacing array.

He wasn’t actually doing very well at leaving, either. His pedes seemed magnetized to the floor, his optics wide as he stared at the edge of the berth, where Elita was sitting and Sentinel kneeling in front of her, or more particularly at the junction between Elita’s pelvis and Sentinel’s face. His audials pricked up to catch Elita’s soft moans and the wet slurping sounds as Sentinel devoured her array like he hadn’t fueled in a quartex.

“Op–” Sentinel said, starting to pull away; but Elita put a hand on his head and he put it down again, sucking more softly now.

“Come in,” Elita said, way too calmly for someone whose spike was all the way down Sentinel’s intake. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Uh.” Optimus said, although he was already stepping forward, letting the door close and lock behind him. “…Waiting for me?”

Sentinel sounded like he was about to choke for a moment, but he subsided when Elita pinched his antenna.

“Yes,” Elita said, and then she paused for a moment to focus on Sentinel’s mouth. Optimus watched in fascination as she thrust into his mouth a few times, grinding a bit on the end of each thrust to rub on Sentinel’s chin, and then sighed in pleasure, holding Sentinel’s head close as she finished in his mouth.

“Um.” Optimus’ face got, if possible, even hotter, and he realized he was clutching his own pelvic plating, trying to keep it from popping open.

“Oh, Optimus. C'mere.” Elita reached out a hand for him, and he closed the few steps between them and took it. “You see…Sentinel’s all warmed up and ready to spurt, but he’s been waiting so very patiently for the right place to do it.” She pet Sentinel’s helm like he was a tame turbofox, and Sentinel leaned into her touch, showing off some of his lubricant-streaked face to Optimus.

It was a surprisingly good look for him, especially combined with the smug little grin he gave Optimus. He licked his lips, slowly, and Optimus lost the battle to keep his panels closed. Optimus’ lubricants joined Elita’s and Sentinel’s on the floor; he knew he and Sentinel would be cleaning that up, later.

Elita stroked a fingertip down the length of Sentinel’s antennae, no doubt savoring Optimus’ lustful stare and Sentinel’s low pleading moan; then she removed her hand and said, “Up, Sentinel. Lay down on the berth and show Optimus what he’s getting.”

“I, uh –” Optimus felt like this was all going very fast and he wasn’t sure he wanted Sentinel’s spike – well, okay, he _definitely_ wanted Sentinel’s spike, but he wasn’t sure about here and now and like this – and then Sentinel was spread out on the berth, that huge scrap-eating grin on his dirty faceplates, and – oh.

He’d seen Sentinel’s spike occasionally but he hadn’t really looked before. It was wide and blue with a big orange tip and it was _perfect_.

“Like what you see?” Sentinel grinned down at him and wrapped his hand around his own spike and Optimus thought he might just start drooling.

“No, Sentinel.” Elita took Sentinel’s wrist and pulled it away up over his helm. Sentinel whined, but his back arched and his spike twitched so Optimus was pretty sure he was into whatever exactly Elita was doing. “That’s for Optimus.”

Optimus looked from Elita to Sentinel and then back to the spike. “Me?”

“Yes,” Elita.

“You – know what to do with it, right?” Sentinel added. It sounded a little too desperate to be properly scornful.

“Uh, yeah um. Do you want me to suck it? Can I touch?” Optimus’ hand released the side of the berth where it had been clutching for lack of anything else to do, and reached out.

Sentinel groaned. “ _Sit_ on it! – Ow. Sorry.” Elita had pinched the antenna again, probably harder this time.

“You don’t give the orders here, Sentinel. Optimus, it’s for you. Use it however you want.” Elita grinned at Optimus and slid one hand over Sentinel’s mouth.

Sentinel started sucking on Elita’s fingers. Optimus spent a long moment just staring as they were licked and sucked as eagerly as Elita’s spike and valve before the insistent pressure in between his legs reminded him that he had a spike to take care of.

More specifically, a spike to sit on, because despite what Elita said and what Sentinel seemed to enjoy from Elita, there was nothing Optimus wanted to do with Sentinel’s spike more than whatever Sentinel wanted him to do with it.

Optimus swallowed nervously and climbed all the way onto the berth, straddling Sentinel’s thighs awkwardly. He wrapped his hands around the spike – it seemed bigger up close – and stroked it.

It was warm, slightly slick, and tingling with electricity. Optimus would have been happy to spend some more time exploring it but Sentinel’s hips were twitching in his grip and when he looked up at Sentinel’s face – Sentinel was looking back, at him, almost the way he looked at Elita all the time.

(And maybe he _was_ looking at Elita, really, at the fingers pushing the lubricants from his face into his mouth, but the look warmed Optimus’ spark and heated his array.)

He moved up and sat.

Or, well, tried to sit. The spike slid along his array rather than going inside, which felt nice but wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing. Optimus had to put one hand on the spike and the other on his valve to feel where the hole was to get it aligned correctly, and after a few fumbles and a determined effort _not to look_ at Sentinel or Elita, who were both watching him with rapt attention, the tip finally slipped in.

“Oh!” Optimus said. It felt weird, kind of painful and kind of nice, and this was not how Optimus had intended his first time to go, but Sentinel and Elita were both looking at him in lust now, and when Sentinel’s hips bucked up into his, Optimus pushed down with him, working the spike all the way inside.

He beamed when he felt Sentinel’s plating against his hips. He’d done it, it was in, and it felt nice even as it ached and burned inside.

Sentinel’s hips bucked up again. “Ride me,” he said around the fingers in his mouth, and Elita silenced him by wrapping her thighs around his helm even as Optimus obeyed, trying to match his pace on Sentinel’s spike to Elita’s on his mouth.

“Good, isn’t he?” Elita asked, and Optimus flushed and bit his lip in concentration. It did feel almost all good now, but it was Sentinel’s moans, the building charge in his spike and the buck of his hips that made Optimus the happiest. Optimus’ hands sought out Sentinel’s, to feel Sentinel’s building charge there, too.

It built up quickly into a rush of fluids into Optimus’ valve that made him clench down and blush further. He’d made Sentinel come.

He lifted himself off the spike once Sentinel seemed to have finished. The rod sank back into Sentinel’s body once he’d pulled back, dripping with lubricants.

“Good?” Optimus asked, and Sentinel made what seemed to be an agreeing sound into Elita’s – valve, probably. Optimus could see her spike poking out over Sentinel’s chin, grinding over the slick metal as Elita rode him. 

“You can have his mouth after I’m done,” Elita said, and as Optimus’ optics widened, Elita rode Sentinel faster. In a few moments, she overloaded again, and this time Optimus watched a few spurts of silvery fluid spurt over Sentinel’s chin.

Optimus felt Sentinel’s spike twitch again beneath his thigh. Clearly he enjoyed that, despite – because of? – the mess.

“All yours,” Elita said, climbing off Sentinel’s face. Sentinel’s optics were dim and his whole face covered in fluids.

Optimus took out a cleaning cloth and gently started rubbing at Sentinel’s face – it didn’t look comfortable. Sentinel focused on him again, and frowned. “You didn’t overload.”

Optimus looked down at him confused. “So?”

“So get on my face or get on your back and don’t bother cleaning me, I’m gonna get messy again.” Sentinel grabbed Optimus’ hips and tugged upward.

Optimus looked over at Elita nervously. She chuckled. “Let him do it. His mouth is amazing.”

That, Optimus didn’t have any doubt of. He’d rather clean up and snuggle, if Sentinel would let him, but his array was definitely interested. “Okay. Let me – get on my back then?”

Sentinel huffed and half-pushed Optimus into position, legs sprawled wide, aft cupped in Sentinel’s hand. “Let the master work.”

Optimus clutched Sentinel’s free hand in his own, rested the other carefully on Sentinel’s helm, and did so.

It was amazing and exhausting and the best thing about all of it was how much Sentinel seemed to relish sucking spike and eating valve.

When he pushed Optimus to his first overload, he beamed up at him in triumph, and Optimus just wanted to kiss him, fluids and all.

He settled for squeezing Sentinel’s hand and telling him he had the best mouth in the galaxy, and that was Optimus’ best overload ever.

“Of course it was,” Sentinel said, smugly, and dug in again.

Optimus moaned and held on.

Elita chuckled. “He’s insatiable, isn’t he? Sentinel, let him rest after the next overload. We don’t want to break him.”

Sentinel grumbled an agreement into Optimus’ valve.


End file.
